Artemis Fowl 4:The New Ally
by Lia-and-Randir
Summary: Go easy on Lia, it's her first story. Takes place after book 3, all characters unite against...someone Lia hasn't thought up yet. PLEASE read.


Artemis Fowl:  
  
The New Ally  
  
  
  


St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen  
  
Artemis sighed. This was a pathetic school, what with a rugby team that didn't play, food that looked, smelled, and tasted like plastic, and no advanced courses whatsoever. His only consolation was the laboratory, whic was still woefully inadequate.   
`The only reason he was here in the first place was that his father had been rescued from the Fowl Star disaster last year. Otherwise he would be busy trading stock, perfecting chess plays, and making a killing off the black market. But one always runs in to obstacles; he had been outvoted three to one on that issue.  
So now Artemis was stuck in a Victorian hardwood desk listening to some idiot with a degree drone on about the Greeks and Romans. Most other students didn't even have the sense to pretend they were listening. The floor was already littered with paper airplanes. Artemis tuned back in to the discussion just in time to hear his name being called.   
  
Artemis replied. Maybe he shouldn't mess with the man's mind too much- after all, this was the fifth World History teacher hired since term started. It was only October, after all...  
What was the name of the emperor whose life ended with the words Et tu, Brutain?'  
...but this opportunity was just too good to pass up.  
An evil smile formed on the boy's face. Why, don't you know the answer yourself?  
The professor swallowed hard. Well, certainly, but-  
Artemis inquired, why are you asking me, a simple schoolboy, for the answer to such a complex question?  
Now sweat was forming under the professor's toupee. He had been warned about this one, the genius that messed with his teachers' minds. But he wasn't going to be the next one to leave. No way.  
Well? What is the answer, professor?  
The man began to realize the awesome power this boy had. His hypnotic stare gave him a definitely vampirish look.  
Um, er, the answer, the answer...  
Artemis was relishig this. Oh, dear. Surely you haven't _forgotten_. My father will be displeased to hear of this. I'm afraid he specifically requested that my instructors would be the cream of the crop. Your job may end this day. But why am I worrying over such a trivial matter?  
The youth took a cell phone out of his trouser pocket. Father? It's Artemis. I am in World History right now, an the teacher has proven to be, shall we say, inadequate. Yes, go by the normal procedure. That is all.  
As soon as Artemis hung up the phone, a team of commandos armed with machine guns marched in the door. They grabbed the teacher by his shoulders and dragged him out of the classroom. The man struggled violently but was no match for the guards. Before he disappeared, he screamed, You'll hear from my lawyer, boy!  
I think not, Artemis replied. Instead, you will hear from mine. And after your trial, you will undoubtedly face a long sentence in prison. Good day.  
He then left the room himself.  
  
Artemis quickly ascended the spiral staircase to his rooms. At least he had won some free time. The schedule here was abominable.  
He walked into his study and sat in front of the blue iMac on his desk. Checking his inbox, he was surprised to find a new message. It wasn't from anyone he knew, either. Curious, he opened it and began to read.  
  
To-bakshir@comcast.net  
From-mdigara@aol.com  
Re-business  
Hello, Fowl. My name is Maurice DiGara. Maybe you've heard of me.  
Anyway, I want to talk business. A merger. Info you might find...interesting.  
I'm planning the biggest deal you've ever heard of in all your 14 years. And I need your help, Fowl. I know you have a jet, so meet me in Paris, at Le Petit France, 11am sharp. December 13. Be there.  
  


Maurice DiGara  


Artemis' eyes were wide with shock. Maurice DiGara, the newest tycoon on the market, was asking to meet him? This was almost too good to be true. He was about to send a reply when the intercom went off.  
All students proceed to lawn for assembly. Repeat, all students proceed to lawn for assembly.  
Blast that alarm! He made a note on his Palm Pilot to shut it down ASAP, then left for the assembly. Maybe it would be interesting.  
  
When Artemis arrived at the lawn, he was surprised at what he saw. Hundreds of cheap, foldout metal chairs had been set up, and on them were all the St. Bartleby's students. But what was really odd was on another set of metal chairs sat girls in plaid kilts and berets. In front of the chairs were the Dean and a frumpy middle-aged woman, both with malicious smiles om their faces. Artemis' good mood instanly faded away. This was trouble.  
He cautiously sat in one of the chairs. Right after he did, the Dean began to speak.  
Good morning, students, the man bellowed.  
Good morning, Sir, droned everyone in the standard deadpan tone that all good children use when speaking to their elders.  
It's that time again, children. The time when students at St. Bartleby's begin their year-round project with the girls from St. Bridget's.  
All the students groaned, again in the standard deadpan tone that good children use when speaking to their elders.  
The Honorable Dame Penelope and I, the dean continued, oblivious to the moaning children, have made the pairings, that, in our opinion, will work the best. The partners are as follows: Master Patrick Aarons and Miss Helga O'Reilly...  
Artemis sat in shock. Project? What project? Surely this was a mistake. Surely his father would not have allowed him to work with these, these _cretins_!  
Surely not-  
...Master Artemis Fowl and Miss Eliza Urban,  
For a moment, he did not register the fact that his name had been called. Then, realizing that everyone was staring at him, he waked stiffly over to the platform.  
It appeared that he wasn't the only one who had issues with this assignment. A girl was busy arguing with the headmistress of the other school.   
We talked about this before! she yelled. You said that as I was new here, I could skip certain things.  
The Dame remained calm. Miss Urban, I did say that. This is not one of the projects that you will skip.  
Apparantly this wasn't the response that the girl had hoped for. Her eye was twitching as she took the folder and shook hands with Artemis. They made eye contact for one second. The girl's eyes narrowed. Artemis' eyes remained the same cool indigo. Finally they looked away and walked back to their seats.  
  
After all the names had been called, the Dame cleared her throat and resumed speaking.  
Your first assignment for this project is to lead your partner on a tour of your chambers. That will be all for the day.  
The students grouped up and chattered like parrots. Artemis waited until the throng had passed, and then approached the girl, who was sitting alone and playing games on her iBook.  
Um, excuse me, miss...?  
The girl looked up and sneered. Urban. Liza Urban. And don't ever call me Eliza; that is, unless you want to be decapitated.  
Artemis raised an eyebrow. Even if you attempted to chop my head off, Miss Urban, he replied silkily, My bodyguard would gladly remove yours first.  
Got it?  
Liza simply nodded, then grinned. Whatever you say, your crimelord-ship.   
  
  



End file.
